BATB: Crossroads of Past, Present and Future: Book 12
by Vetivera
Summary: Cathy and Jacob prepare to give birth amid fears of the safety of their child.
1. Chapter 1

The Crossroads of Past Present and Future.

When the elements of life and death collide, we are standing at the crossroads of past, present and future.

Chapter 1

Jacob tried to push the worry out of his mind. He couldn't say yes or no to Cathy's curious request but his heart told him to let her go.

'Are you listening to me?' The impatient voice drew him out of his reverie.

'Sorry, Ziggy. I've got something else on my mind.'

In fact, Jacob was attending to his assistant's curious questions in one part of his brain even as Cathy's surprising decision played in another part. He tried to shut off the sound of her voice imploring him to understand. Jacob could only remember how hard it had been to just smile and say 'sure go ahead' to her odd request.

'Something compels me to do this Jacob,' she had implored fighting the tears which signalled her own inner turmoil. 'I am not going far. Really, it's just around the corner, less than an hour's flight but I must connect with my mother before I give birth. Her room in Montreal is the one place where she felt real to me.'

The plea was heartfelt but the reality of letting her go tore at his insides adding more worry to this already stressful pregnancy.

Almost from the beginning Cathy insisted that she would not accept the recommended, standard, prenatal care common in most medical practice. Lack of sophisticated monitoring had not been much of a concern. After all, he reasoned, many women gave birth below assisted by Mary and Celeste. He had weighed the pros and cons of staying within their community. A small part of him resisted the temptation to utilize all available medical assets. Respect for his wife's common sense dictated caution. As well, deep-seated concern about the possibility that his child may inherit any one of several interesting traits enabled him to give in to whatever she wanted.

Nonetheless, worry clouded his every thought. Once again, he turned to Serge Correia for advice and support. The hematologist had been extremely discreet despite an inquisitiveness, which Jacob was unable to satisfy. Ever since Cathy and Jacob had been tested as possible donors for little Mea, the head of the lab at the hospital had been curious about the strange contents within Jacob's blood. Jacob never felt strong enough to ask his father to donate blood for testing. It seemed unkind to expose his unique parent to unnecessary humiliation. As much as he trusted the kindly doctor, Jacob wasn't ready to share or explain.

Serge, ever patient, advised Jacob to allow Cathy to find her own way. She was agreeable to having her blood checked periodically but the hematologist was also aware that women gave birth to healthy babies all over the world, every day, without the benefit of modern medicine. He would alert Jacob if anything changed.

Reassured but not totally mollified, Jacob relaxed a bit and allowed himself to enjoy watching the growth of their baby. He observed its rolling and twisting movements while humming inane tunes at his wife's belly button. The final vision of the ever rising, often lopsided and delightful mound brought a smile to his face, a totally inappropriate response to Ziggy's impassioned plea.

'I don't think that's funny Jacob.'

'You're right Ziggy. What you said is not funny but I wasn't responding to your concern. I'm sorry for that. I am wrestling with a problem myself.'

'At least your problem seems to have a happy ending. Do I need to repeat myself?'

Jacob shift his thought process and brought up the questions which Ziggy had posed. Now, the expected frown was evident.

'Are you sure?'

'I am. I never thought it would happen to me and I kind of hate to put this to you but do you think I'm crazy?'

'No. Love does that sometimes. Tell me, does that feeling extend to her mother?'

Ziggy didn't answer right away. His features passed through a series of contortions before he sighed deeply.

'I dunno.'

Jacob could empathize with his assistant's feelings. When Mea and Cilla were bought to the house it was so easy to fall in love with them. They were vulnerable and yet so loving in response to the warmth of their new home but there was no one else involved. Jacob already loved their two main caregivers, his mother and his wife.

Ziggy had been thrust, not unwillingly, into the role of 'uncle'. Howard Smirconish was far too old to help Reiba negotiate the ups and downs of settling in although he could facilitate her adjustment with financial support and the stability and safety of a home. Ziggy was the perfect person to walk the streets for shopping, to go to the school and to research programs for the children while offering his endless supply of advice. It was clear from his questions that the little girl, whose disabling birth defect had been reversed and her body miraculously revitalized by Jacob, Cathy and Holly, held his heart.

'You know Ziggy, children have a way of healing adults. I found that out when my mother fostered two girls. Cathy and I weren't ready for a family but we learned a lot about ourselves, especially Cathy. At that time, she thought herself to be an only child and didn't have much experience. From the beginning of her relationship with the girls, Cilla in particular, I could see that she would make a remarkable mother.'

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Jacob relaxed. The worry about Cathy spending time with Mémé evaporated. His wife was resourceful and would be less likely to put herself at risk knowing what the baby meant to both of them. To Ziggy he could offer little advice.

'The little girl will never have any memory of her father except at a spiritual level. If you mean to be a big part of her life make sure it is a role you can maintain and one, which her mother will support. She will see you as a father figure. How are the other kids?'

'The boy is attached to his mother. He is very protective of her. I have tried not to intrude there. He is drawn to Uncle Howie. They share a love of muic, which I think Uncle would foster. I might just be a data bank for him and his curiosity. The other little girl is quiet and says very little. She will need a lot of work.'

Jacob was surprised at Ziggy's perceptiveness. For someone who grew up rather sheltered, he seemed to throw himself into the new role with the same energy and effectiveness which he employed doing work with Jacob. It's still early days in their recovery and acclimatization. Just play it by ear. They are safe and have lots of help to move forward,' he concluded.

'Always practical! Do you ever not have the answer to questions?'

'Yes, quite often. I just don't let folks know. There's an answer to everything and if it isn't in my head, then I have to find it.'

Personal chats were limited in the relationship between Ziggy and Jacob. They shared quite a bit of their lives in the months since Reiba was rescued from her abusive husband. First and foremost, the work they were doing at the Public Defenders office had to be completed before any personal element was indtroduced into their working time. Jacob had never really had a 'best friend'. In the past, he gravitated to older men whose knowledge was vast compared to contemporaries. Jacob wasn't an intellectual snob. His need for stimulation and challenge had to be satisfied. Learning was advanced in lieu of his emotional growth. Meeting Cathy opened the door to his heart and helped to accelerate his potential.

Developing a relationship and talking more freely with Ziggy gave Jacob a new perspective on his 'sheltered' childhood. The wider world may have been challenging but human relationships, family structures, justice and fairness were all strengths he had in abundance. His appreciation for the all he had growing up was strengthened by his ongoing interactions with Ziggy. He smiled at his assistant.

'Don't put too much pressure on yourself Ziggy. I have no advice other than to follow your heart.'

'Why did I know that you were going to say that?' Ziggy pulled himself up out of the chair and offered an offhand salute before exiting Jacob's office.

…

Cathy lay back on her bed. She was propped up against the pillows. A hot cup of herbal tea sat cooling on the nightstand. She could not escape the relentless mothering from Sue. Cathy smiled inwardly. Nothing in her life, before Jacob, held any delight. Her mother Lena had been more of a child/friend than a responsible adult. On her own, Cathy never met any man who had one drop of the kindness she felt in Jacob. With her newfound ability to 'dream' the past, she recognized that from birth, she was destined to not follow the path her mother took but to wait for this once in a lifetime love.

The slow climb from their simple meeting on Jacob's first day of work to this moment in time, when they would become parents, each had grown. They had proved themselves worthy of the incredible ancestral gifts that altered the course of their lives. As she patted the belly and sipped the fragrant tea, Cathy closed her eyes. She had so much insight into a lot of the past through dreams but her role in the trio, which included her sister Holly, and Jacob, was to affect the present.

Cathy did not come into the full knowledge of her capabilities until her hands touched Reiba's little girl. Healing the defects, which rendered the child's life virtually one of isolation, opened the final door to full recognition of her own possibilities. As the days to her confinement drew closer she felt a need to explore the reasons why Lena had not been able to see her place in the hierarchy of the Lion Clan. Snippets of information filtered through some of the dream stories but there was a gap, a disconnect which she knew would be important in guiding her baby's role and function in the future.

Cathy had no issues with Philippe or Mémé. She understood that her grandparents melded their unique energies to bring Madeleine into the world. Philippe had a direct connection to the Irish heritage of Knut and Arden's child but Cathy was unsure of her grandmother's full history and whether she was directly connected to Veneranda and Theodoric. For some reason Cathy felt sure that it was important to have the full story before her child was born. Any insight into the baby's gender was blocked at some level and the golden sheath, which covered the baby's body, prevented her from seeing more that her guides wished her to know. Cathy could find the answers if she wished but chose instead to focus on the day to day effort keeping herself healthy and well rested.

It was clear that secrecy was necessary, not just for her own protection but also for the wider clan members. Even as she considered the meaning of it all, her body shuddered with the memory of her kidnapping at the hands of Virgil. She was certain there were many more like him out there waiting. As her mother had done in some small way, she would remove anything which presented a threat to her child.

In order to prevent any risk to her baby, Cathy recognized that she had to find answers. Between her and Jacob, they had already been able to trace much of the ancestry from Egypt but the clan spread far and wide, across every continent. Many would covet any gifts that her child might possess. She sincerely believed knowledge was power and hoped to fill in any gaps by looking into the motives which drove Lena. Cathy remained puzzled by her mother's inability to sense her gifts, instead losing her power to the men who controlled her life.

In some ways, Lena's life was one that held its own strength. She was a survivor. That alone gave her daughter character traits but Cathy knew it could have been so different. She sighed up at the celling.

'I am coming to be with you Mommy. Tell me what I have missed. Let me see what helped you to survive. Allow me to see the history and let me protect my child in the same way you protected me.'

….

Hélène stared at her front door. Her heart beat out a tattoo made up of nerves. Howard was coming! It had been so long since their last visit together. The months since Reiba's journey ended, had been busy. Acclimatization of the traumatized family demanded much from the busy Governor. His last year in office was also proving to be one of ongoing and unexpected political turmoil. Even though they spoke every day, sometimes late into the night, any clandestine meetings or physical intimacy had been virtually impossible.

Hélène could never imagine that she could miss anyone so much. Even the years after her separation from Philippe were not as painful. Perhaps the passage of time muted the intensity of feeling, which dominated her life, back then, but Howard's endearing smile and loving ways helped to rebuild the heart that beat so strongly. She felt her being swell in anticipation, just seconds before the light from his taxi filtered through the window curtains. Hélène was at the door before the knock could echo into the silence.

His dear face, more lined than the last time she saw him, was filled by the loving eyes, which held her still for so long before she was captured in his arms. If the tremors racking his body were, in fact sobs, it didn't matter. Their togetherness in that moment was enough.

Much later, replete from a delicious meal, they sat as always at the piano while he played his latest piece. Over the years Howard had all but abandoned his technical skills despite loving every aspect of music. Since falling in love he faithfully promised to learn a new song, which he vowed to share with Hélène at each visit. There had been lots of time to pick up any number of songs but she was satisfied with the one. As he finished the last notes of 'How Can You Mend a Broken Heart' he took her hand.

'You, my love, you and you alone did that for me. Funny thing is that I didn't even know how badly it was fractured until you healed it.'

Hélène was speechless. Howard often said things which she could never imagine coming from a man but he, in all his power and humbleness, was one in a million. Every note of the song touched a similar chord in her own heart. She knew his time was precious. She would have preferred to linger at the piano but she wanted to listen to his concerns and share a few of her own. When she stood up, he didn't hold back but followed her willingly to the bedroom.

'I want to hear about your busy-ness Howard but I also have something to share with you.'

Howard was an excellent listener. He didn't preempt her, but just tilted his head in an attitude of openness.

'I am worried about my granddaughter. She insists on coming here. She is so close to her time. If anything happens I will not forgive myself. I am not asking her to come but I cannot tell her to stay away.'

'She has her reasons I suppose but she seems to be a sensible girl.'

'Yes.' Hélène nodded. 'What I know is that when she gets an idea, she is immovable.'

'I wonder who she takes after?'

'Not me, for sure.'

'I am not so sure. You are pretty stubborn when you decide on something. You are an amazing woman.'

'Thank you Howard but I am fearful for her. Should I be?'

'My opinion?' He waited for her nod. 'From what I have seen, she and her husband are a remarkable couple with skills I can't even comprehend but they can make things happen. If your worst fear is that she will go into labour, from what I know it takes hours to give birth. Jacob will not be that far away. If I can do anything to help, you just need to call me. You know that.'

'Bless you, I do but this baby may be born with unique or unusual features and I am afraid of exposing the child to well-meaning but misguided people. And, if she is anything like me, I gave birth very quickly.'

Howard wasn't quite sure what all that meant but he smiled and held her shoulders. 'We can't problem solve the future, only the present. If and when something happens, we will find a solution. In this, I ask you to trust me.'

Hélène who had never allowed a full measure of trust with anyone other than the personal instincts which guided her inner self, finally gave into the delightful and unexpectedly releasing sense of being cared for. Not even with Philippe's generous and kind heart did she feel that sense of complete trust with another. Now, for the first time, she knew she was not alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

'Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming today. I do so appreciate your support of this new program. I'll make a brief statement, then I'll be happy to take any questions.'

Catherine leaned back slightly and took a deep breath. She didn't want any untoward tremors to be heard though the highly sensitive microphone. She looked around the room carefully noting some large video cameras behind the seated guests, numerous cell phone lights being held high and the soft murmur of a mixed crowd dominated by well dressed middle aged women, men in suits and casual looking reporters with their pads and tablets. Behind her, another group of people sat in a semi circle on the slightly elevated stage. At no time did Catherine feel comfortable.

'As many of you know, Governor Smirconish and his family have a long history of charitable works. Since his election, the Governor has supported fundraising efforts but he has left the management of his charities to various committees in consultation with his family members. Recently, it became apparent that multiple people working separately were not as effective as one central board who would be responsible for overseeing the multifocal needs of the changing communities.'

Catherine paused again. Her nerves continued to stretch to breaking point. She thought herself to be crazy. Working behind the scenes or in a small crowd was fine but this group of people, no matter how benign, staring at her naked emotion was taking a toll.

'Some months ago, the Governor asked me to pull together some individuals with a stake in the future of New York. Our mission is to oversee the various charities by forming a select committee who will, in essence, manage the flow of money to ensure that the needs of the disenfranchised children of this state are paramount and their needs are met.'

Catherine continued to feel uncomfortable. She had more to say but chose not to. Instead she introduced the group of people sitting behind her. The hand-chosen individuals had been carefully vetted over the summer months by Catherine and Diana. Among the panel members on stage, was the retired detective who enjoyed the process. She found herself wanting to continue the work with Catherine. After some initial wariness between the women, the issues, which separated them became irrelevant. Vincent was destined to be with Catherine. There was no other route for him. Joe Maxwell and Catherine had never been lovers. The two women found they had similar work ethics and a commitment to the community. All else faded.

The success of the working group would depend on commitment and determination. Catherine alone had some. When Diana added her knowledge and strength to their partnership, it empowered both women. Without much fanfare they set about the task of formulating a committee that would take on the Governor's family trust. They worked out of the Brownstone, completely hidden from public view, checking and rechecking data, reports, funding and resources. Each name, which came up for consideration was vigorously examined. There had been no guarantees but Catherine felt confident that the group on the stage were there for one reason; to help the children of the Empire State to achieve their highest potential, rich and poor alike.

Despite her inner turmoil, the introduction of the participants gave her some respite from the unrelenting glare of the cell phones, and microphones. The mix of gender, race, and status made her very proud. Once the introductions were done she returned to her statement script and concluded her prepared remarks.

'We all want to thank Governor Smirconish for the confidence he has placed in us. All of our work is transparent and will be available to the public at any time. Now, I am happy to take any questions.'

There were the inevitable shout outs. Catherine didn't feel comfortable. Reporters could be aggressive. She had bad memories from her days as a public defender. She stepped back and pointed to a raised hand. The words were drowned out by another male voice.

'Ms Wells, how will you counteract the negative press which some of the charities have received in the past?'

'I am not here to re-litigate the past. We are a new group moving forward.'

'Catherine, you have detective Bennett on your committee. Why do you need a police presence?'

'Detective Bennett-Maxwell is retired from active duty but she is familiar with the population we wish to serve and intimately knowledgeable about the events which most impact their lives. She will be an asset to our work.'

There were a few more inquiries and Catherine called on other members to respond but the inevitable was bound to happen and she braced herself with each question. Anxiety left her weak. She was about to call a halt to the proceedings when the reporter who asked the first question shouted out the words Catherine dreaded.

'What about Susanna Palermo?'

It wasn't a question. 'What about' never felt like a real inquiry. The lack of correct grammar gave Catherine pause. She was tempted to reply '_ what about her?' _ but restrained herself and said nothing, tilting her head instead waiting for a real question to be formulated.

'Your predecessor left some suspicions behind when she resigned. How are you dealing with that?'

'I repeat my first answer. We are not here to re-litigate the past. Moving forward, we have organized the charity in the format of a hub. Our donors are matched to their areas of interest. The money is channeled to the organization, which will provide service most in keeping with the donor's interest. For example, aspiring musicians in need of scholarships will receive their funds from the Organization of Professional Musicians (OPL). Not only do they donate funds, but their time and energy. It's a good fit.'

'But, Mrs. Palermo….'

'That's all for today. We will keep you updated on our website and please remember all our records are available for public viewing at any time. Thank you ladies and Gentlemen.'

Catherine moved away from the microphone. She knew that people would come forward to ask more or offer assistance. That pesky reporter would not be satisfied. Apparently he was involved in some way with the initial story surrounding Susanna. Rather than make it easy for him Catherine surrounded herself with a noisy group. Diana, already sensitive to her partner's moods, moved in behind Catherine to protect her back from an onslaught she saw coming.

Diana's hair had long since faded to a golden grey hue but she recognized the determination of the carrot topped reporter making his way over. There was no tackle but an effective block put and end to the probing. They stared each other down before the young man moved away. His eyes said plenty but they did not intimidate. He would be back at another event.

….

'You should go.'

'I know, I know. It's been so long and so short all in the same twenty-four hours. If I could stay, would it be alright with you?'

'Do you have to ask? I want you to stay….forever.' The last word was just a whisper Hélène could hardly get out.

She was drawn tenderly into Howard's arms. It was new and old all at the same time. In fact, it was Howard's second visit in as many days. A long and busy work schedule resulted in some free time. He had many things to occupy what should have been a mini vacation. Reiba's family was priority. Although she and her children were well cared for, there were pending issues, which needed attention regarding her unorthodox stay. Reiba had come in as the wife of a member of the diplomatic corps of Russia. Having a prominent relative did not guarantee any special perks but she was granted asylum. The slow process toward permanent status was left in the hands of a capable immigration lawyer.

On a very personal level, Howard's wife, Rose continued to deteriorate. Surgery was no longer an option. Her death was merely a question of time. Certainly it would be unseemly for Howard not to spend time with her, as painful as that may be. Her condition broke his heart and he often became tearful when speaking of her. Hélène held no rancor towards the ailing wife. Howard was still not free but he was human. Had Rose been strong, he would have offered her a divorce. Such an action was no longer possible. Hélène accepted the limitations of their love but could not stem the tide of yearning which rose sharply in her heart, from time to time.

'What time is Cathy due to arrive?' he asked gently, sensing her disquiet.

'Tomorrow morning. She and Jacob will drive overnight. He will fly back after lunch but her guard will stay. Don't know if it will be Rob or Carl.'

'Odd arrangement.'

'Travelling like that has special meaning for both of them. They are recreating a life changing journey.'

'Your daughter's?'

'No, they did that trip already.'

Howard didn't probe further. His attention was focused on Hélène. An overwhelming desire to make love to her tore at his insides but his body betrayed his senses. She asked nothing of him except love and tenderness towards her. He wished, above all, to be a full partner in their lovemaking but years of celibacy left him floundering. He wanted to do more but felt betrayed by the very self-control which allowed him to focus all his energy on the work of being Governor rather than chasing women who would be only too happy to share his bed.

'I want to stay a little longer. I promise to leave before they arrive. I don't want to compromise you in any way, even if they all know what is happening between us.'

'I am prepared for anything Howard. I love them, all of them but I won't let that love take away from my own happiness, not anymore. I know that if our relationship compromises you then and only then….', she said shaking her head, 'I am unwilling to take any risk. You must finish your work, your term and then we can decide.'

Howard's smile was endearing. 'Come on, my sweet lady, I want to play something for you.'

Hélène followed her lover to the piano room. She realized that even if she was more skilled at musical performance, his efforts at serenading had the ability to melt her heart. What he couldn't say in words, what he couldn't do physically, he managed to find in song and never failed to impress.

….

Cathy was packed and ready to go by the time Jacob got in from work. They weren't leaving for a couple of hours but she wanted him to rest.

'I don't really need to sleep, unless you are just using that as an excuse to get into bed with me?'

'Really Jacob? Do I look like that's what is on my mind?'

'I dunno. Is it?'

Cathy couldn't resist the teasing in Jacob's eyes. Hands on hips she tried to stare him down but failed. His sparkling blue eyes tugged at her heartstrings. She smiled and tried to hold him as close as the burgeoning belly would allow.

'Thank you for supporting me in this silly escapade. I know how you feel about it.'

'I'm ok, KitCat. I'll miss you, but I do understand. We've been through a lot together. This is just another adventure.' His shrugged shoulders belied the words but she was in no mood to challenge him. After a light supper, the young couple did retire to their upstairs apartment to talk. Cathy encouraged him to share the events of his day. As always Jacob inquired about her activities which included her interactions with his parents.

'I didn't see Mom today. Sue said she went below with Dad.'

'She probably needed to catch her breath, literally. Today was nerve racking.'

'Did you hear something?'

'She didn't see me but I went to her presser. She was nervous, but only those who know her well would have seen it. Some guy did ask about Susanna, but Mama handled it well, outwardly anyway. I think he'll be back. I suspect that he did some thorough background checks on the evolution of the committee before covering the story today. He might have been surprised to find himself up against a closed door.'

'You sound very proud of her.'

'I am. Reminded me of the day when she refused to be railroaded by the doctors at the hospital. Do you remember? Mama wanted to wait. Turned out for the best.'

Cathy nodded and smiled before brushing a few stray curls out of Jacob's face. He was proud of his mother. Cathy hoped, one day, to feel the same about her mother.

'Jacob, I just want to spend a little time alone before we go. I have a couple of plans in case anything happens. I'd like to go over them with you. '

Jacob's heart sank. It was hard enough to let Cathy fulfill her mission in an advanced state of pregnancy. Letting her go for even a day seemed like torture. To make plans in case of an emergency felt more like salt on a wound than the very practical need to prepare. He held his uneasy peace and followed her to their bedroom where she listed a few possibilities. Jacob nodded giving her his full attention. It took very little to commit them to memory hoping above all that none would be needed. His wish was to see Cathy return in a week and await the birth of their baby in the comfort of their home below.

A few hours later, Cathy poked at her sleepy husband. 'Come on lazy bones. It's time to go.'

'Did I fall asleep?'

'You did. Kurt is working you too hard. I am going to have a word with him as soon as I have this baby. If I get mad at him now he'll just blame the hormones.'

Cathy was light-hearted. Jacob felt the calm, loving aura she emitted and gave into the beauty of it. He tried to live in the moment, a real challenge for his hyper vigilant system. Downstairs he could hear his parents talking to Carl, who would be making the trip with them.

He avoided prolonged questions and goodbyes, assuring his mother that he would be back. Jacob gave no hint that he was at the press conference. His perfunctory inquiry was met with a smile. He searched her face for any signs of stress and saw none. Quick hugs and they were off.

Carl had been with them before. Their pilgrimage from Montreal to New York, tracing Madeleine's route had been very emotional. That journey was not on their minds however. Long before Jacob and Cathy were married, before Catherine was returned home, the young couple, armed with an the tiniest snippet of hope travelled to Albany to confront Senator Joe Maxwell. Once there, Jacob received the news that his mother had not died but was alive, protected in a safe house in California. It was the beginning of a wonderful journey back to the wholeness of family. The birth of their baby would eventually bring them a full circle.

Although their destination was not Albany, and they were not travelling by bus, they promised to be mindful of every step along that route which brought them to the present time.

…

'Do you feel better, my love?'

'I do. Going below has been my salvation for the last…how many years now?'

Vincent chuckled. He had come home to find his wife agitated and pacing in their bedroom. He knew the press conference would have been challenging. When she agreed to take on the responsibility of overseeing the Smirconish family charities, there had been a deep reluctance within, but true to her character, Catherine to get things underway because the plight of children always touched her heart. She hoped to replace the memories of Susanna's duplicity and deceit, then right the wrongs. In her heart she understood that a public face would make her vulnerable. Questions about her past and present would make news and revive all the old hurts. Weighed against the good for so many, she opted to take a chance.

Diana had her back in all things public. The committee members were hand chosen and thoroughly vetted by the former detective. Neither woman made a move without checking and double-checking their sources. It promised to be a great partnership. It wouldn't be the first time they worked together but the tension, which had existed between them was a thing of the past. Their long history made it impossible to hold on to any lingering grudges.

Even with the comfort and support of all her resources, the opening event reminded her of the dangers ahead. She handled herself well but Vincent could sense the surge of memories. His arms held her until the tremors stopped. Some were due to remembered rage and others to relief. He took no chances. The safety of their sanctuary always held the power to heal. He redirected her across the park and down below before she could utter any words of complaint.

Back in the comfort of their bedroom, Catherine turned into her husband's arms. 'Thank you, Vincent, for taking me below. It was the right place to gather my strength, but you knew that. I would not have liked Jacob and Cathy to see me upset, before their trip north.'

'Are you worried about them?'

'I was. Cathy is so far along. I wish Jacob would stay with her, but I have every confidence in Hélène to call or let us know if anything happens.'

'Cathy is pretty resourceful. I have watched her organize things below. She is guided by a spirit, which keeps her firmly grounded. She is perfect for our son who seems to live inside his head.'

'….. and his heart Vincent.'

'Yes of course. He is a fine representative of both of us.'

There was no point in staying awake worrying. With a final hug and kiss, they settled into sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The drive to Albany, then on to Montreal was as uneventful as their previous trip had been fraught with uncertainty. Jacob encouraged Cathy to rest but not long after leaving the city, he tilted his head on her shoulder and fell into a light sleep.

Cathy didn't mind. She knew her husband worked hard. Mind muscles were just as vulnerable to fatigue. Jacob frequently woke early in the morning to sit at the end of the bed keeping watch. Cathy often wondered if it was a remnant of his leonine heritage. The habit made for very long days.

Cathy said little to Carl, who kept up a steady pace, until they neared Albany, the state's capital city. She felt a flood of thoughts and feelings wash over her. The intensity of it woke Jacob.

'Was it me or you who slept all the way last time?'

'I don't really remember. I don't think either of us did much sleeping but it doesn't matter. We are here again…. at the beginning of another adventure,' she said rubbing her belly.

Cathy directed Carl to find the bus stop. She knew that the rest of their first journey began there. Using the GPS, he soon found the terminal and stopped in an area close by. Jacob helped Cathy out of the vehicle while they recreated the steps taken on that fateful morning. They honoured the moment grateful for the numerous, wonderful and scary things, which followed their meeting with Senator Joe Maxwell.

'We took a chance KitCat but I can…not…. regret one moment of it.'

'Me neither! Look where we are today.'

Cathy placed a hand on their baby and continued to speak about the events of that day. They went on to visit the little café which provided sustenance after the long bus trip. When she seemed tired, Jacob called a halt to the reminiscences and headed back to the vehicle. Their plan did not include a visit to the capital buildings which would still be closed. The sun had not yet sent any shimmer of light on the horizon. The late November morning seemed hours away.

'We should get moving Cathy. There is still a long way to go and we have to clear immigration.'

She nodded. They resumed the journey in peaceful silence. Jacob remained alert allowing Cathy to sit sideways and rest her legs on his. He massaged her feet pushing back the water that had a tendency to settle in her ankles at the end of the day. He was happy that she had fallen asleep. She needed the rest.

Jacob's eyes followed various lights along the road. He sat up as they reached the border crossing. Carl followed the signs leading to the check point. The car slowed to a crawl. In the southbound lane, Jacob noted a large limousine passing. He could not make out the occupant of the car but knew immediately that the luxury vehicle belonged to the governor. A half smile tilted the corner of his mouth.

He sensed that Mémé was entertaining the Governor. Jacob had no issues with the relationship. He just hoped their happiness was worth the risk. He would say nothing to Cathy or Hélène unless a discussion was initiated by them.

Jacob hated to wake his wife to answer questions at the border but there was little fuss. Having a Canadian relative made a huge difference. They passed through quickly. It didn't take long for Cathy to fall back into a light sleep until they encountered the stop and go rush hour traffic of the busy metropolitan city. The bilingual signs were intriguing. The buildings and landmarks had a unique feel, quite different from New York and yet each city still had many things in common.

….

By the time they pulled up in front of the small bungalow, Cathy was feeling the effects of the long drive, despite having the catnap. Waiting at the door with anxious eyes upon the weary group was a vibrant Hélène who quickly gathered her tired granddaughter into warm arms. She guided the trio into the living room, where a light breakfast was set on the table.

'Eat first then lie down. No point in having to get up in an hour because you are hungry.'

Everyone agreed, keeping conversation to a minimum, while they devoured the uniquely French-Canadian breakfast. Once done, Carl excused himself to call his wife and daughters to ensure them of the safe arrival. Jacob saw his wife settled into the small bed in the room where her mother had once slept He left her there choosing instead to spend time relaxing in the living room with Hélène. He also rebooked his flight time after deciding not to rush back.

Carl who had been up all night made his way to a downstairs bedroom to catch a few hours, satisfied that he had safely delivered his charge to her destination. He and Cathy had a solid relationship, which had evolved over the years. Although Rob was a fixture in the Brownstone, it was Carl whose large family of women informed the actions, which helped him to develop a knack of understanding Cathy's sensitivities. He would stay on for the few days and be as watchful over her well being as no one else could, except Jacob.

Once everyone else was settled, Hélène invited Jacob to make himself comfortable. She could see that he had a lot on his mind and encouraged him to speak his mind.

'I hope you won't find it an imposition to have Carl here. He will not interfere with your life and he is very discreet.'

'I am not worried.' Hélène hesitated. She had no doubt in her mind that Jacob was well aware of her unorthodox friendship with the Governor. She decided to be frank. 'Howard knows Cathy is here. He is happy for me and will not intrude.' She gave an endearing shrug of the shoulders.

Jacob nodded his understanding. 'Cathy has a couple of plans in place, just in case of anything. I know she will share them with you. Please call me if you are concerned.'

'I have a few plans of my own. I would wish for your child to be born as planned in New York but I know my granddaughter has much of her mother in her. She will decide her own fate. If the little one follows their pattern, well…God help us all!'

Jacob laughed. 'I know she is in good hands. If anything happens here, my only wish is to be at her side when the baby is born.'

'I understand. But she will return, I am sure of that. By the way, may I ask why you both chose to drive? If it's none of my business, you can tell me.'

'Nothing secret there, Mémé. When Cathy and I first met, I thought that my mother was dead. You already heard the story of her capture and confinement. My father always thought that the grave with her marker did not hold her body. He said many times that he could not feel her spirit.'

He paused giving her time to ask a question but she nodded for him to continue.

'While I was working on a witness protection case, I realized that my mother had also been put into a similar program and I couldn't understand why, if she had been killed as we thought. I spoke with Diana, who you met, and she mentioned that her husband Senator Joe might have more information about it. When I realized the possibility that my father might have been right all along and we both had been deceived, I made the decision to go to Albany and confront Joe. I really expected him to just tell me that she had been buried somewhere else... but not that she was actually still alive!'

Jacob's eyes filled with tears at the memory. The bypass to Albany had been intended to release the memories of it and honour the journey for what it meant to their past and their future. As the tears of relief fell from his eyes, Jacob recognized that it had all been worth it, the original trip, finding his mother, reuniting his family then reliving the experience with his pregnant wife at his side, just as she had been at his side then.

Hélène watched and waited, understanding the catharsis of healing. She felt sure that he would carry some of those early fears into his own fatherhood, especially with Cathy separated from him. She voiced her thoughts.

'Are you sure this is alright with you, Jacob?'

'Yes, I am sure. I have many fears about abandonment. They are peeling away one by one. Cathy is largely responsible for making me feel safe.'

'Just as you do for her. The turmoil of her early life has receded. The solid family foundation you have built together is perfect for her.'

Hélène hugged her granddaughter's husband. She loved the feel of his energy. His embrace was like receiving a blessing from above. She promised him faithfully that she would care for Cathy and ensure that they returned to New York safely.

'I thank you for making that promise but we don't always have choices. We'll just do the best we can.' With those words, Hélène encouraged him to rest a bit before making his way to the airport for the return flight.

A little later, his heart heavy, Jacob went to say goodbye. Cathy was awake. She heard him moving around and could have joined everyone in the living room but she wanted their goodbye to be private. Jacob sat at the side of the small bed and shifted the soft hair from her forehead.

'There are a million ways to say goodbye and tell you that I love you and yet I can't think of one that will make this parting any easier.'

'I can tell you that the past few hours, travelling together have been the sweetest we have shared in a long time. Those hours will sustain both of us.'

It was a curious conversation with tones of a past life rather than those of a modern day couple with access to the immediacy of a cell phone and skype. Cathy had been warned about using her Diosa power while pregnant but she knew that Jacob was capable of sensing any change. With a lingering kiss and gentle rub of the belly, Jacob rose from the bed and left his wife, confident that she would be in safe hands.

He said his goodbyes and took a local taxi to Mirabel Airport declining Carl's offer to drive and reiterating the need to stay close to Cathy at all times.

At the beginning of the shot flight, Jacob was preoccupied with thoughts of the coming baby. It would be a mere couple of weeks and he would be a parent! He knew that the sex of the baby was not important, although he was surprised at not being able to see or intuit the gender. Thoughts of the baby were soon superseded by the cloud formation in the distant sky. Jacob tried to imagine what it would be like to sit on the wing of the plane and fly, to feel the wind rushing by.

He closed his eyes, then rested his against the window. He saw himself outside, seated cross-legged on the wing, just as if he was perched at the end of his bed staring at the sleeping body of his wife. Jacob was aware that he could run faster than the swiftest Olympian, jump higher than most, but he understood his history and the possibilities. There was still so much to explore. With the baby on the way, he felt it was important to understand all his capabilities. But flying? Jacob tried to get a sense of it but couldn't. He was aware that people did parachute jumps with free floating. The idea of trying intrigued him. He would have to put it on his to do list. He felt sleep taking over just seconds before the attendant announced the seat belt sign for landing.

….

Carl walked up the stairs to the living room. He didn't want to intrude but the sounds of piano music above his room drew him. Hélène was playing softly. She smiled when he poked his head around the door.

'Come in Carl. Do you sing or play?'

'Not like you,' he acknowledged with an approving nod. 'I pick a little guitar, hum a little.'

'Hmm. I think you can do better than just a little. You know, there are some instruments in that closet. See if you like one of them. Then I'm sure we can find a tune that we both know.'

Cathy woke to the strange sound of singing voices. Carl had a lovely tenor which complemented her grandmother's soprano. She registered their voices individually. Cathy wasn't ready to get up and join them. Instead she allowed the soft rhythm and harmony to wash over her. The tune was strangely familiar. It invoked memories of green fields and blue water. Cathy knew immediately that her mind had gone back to Ireland. She resisted. 'I'm here for my mother. I don't want to revisit Arden and Knut.'

'Patience my child.'

'Mommy?'

'Now is not the time child. You will see her. Tonight you will prepare yourself!'

Cathy felt a strange energy wash over. All fatigue left her body. Beyond the walls she could see or sense nothing other than the soft music coming from the other side. She peeked at the cell phone on the bedside table and knew that Jacob had landed safely. 'I love you back' she whispered into the air. Jacob would hear but Cathy had minimized her receptive Diosa power in order that her growing fetus would not be influenced by any energy other than its parents. It wasn't a difficult trade off. Cathy was so aware of the dangers, both seen and unseen. Protecting her child was the most important act of her pregnancy.

The message from the spirits lightened her. Lena would come to visit.

…

Cathy eventually joined Carl and Mémé in the music room. She motioned for them to continue. Her heart wasn't in conversation. Instead she relaxed in an easy chair and allowed the music to wash over her.

Mémé gave Carl the lead in choosing which songs he would like to play. It didn't take long for her to catch up with the haunting Spanish harmonies. Although the style of music did not fit her grandparents, Cathy closed her eyes and for a few moments an image of her mother, and grandparents came into view. Somewhere in her mind's eye she saw Lena performing while her parents played show tunes on the piano and guitar. It was a brief sense of what might have been, not what was.

Cathy was not saddened by the vision. In an alternate universe, the energy was alive. There, young Madeleine could create the reality she wished. Satisfied that her mother had found a place of peace, Cathy relaxed and enjoyed the music.

'Would you like me to join you in something Madame?

'Alright, let's reverse our leads.'

As easily as water flowing, Mémé made her choice and began to play. Carl soon picked up the melody and joined in. It took a minute for Cathy to realize that her grandmother was not playing her usual assortment of songs. This was a new repertoire of tunes, played with a kind of loving reverence. It didn't take long to put two and two together. She recognized the music and though she was inclined to sing a little, she chose not to.

Before long, Mémé called a halt. 'You must be famished ma petite-fille. I think I should get dinner ready now.'

'No Mémé. I will take you and Carl out for dinner. There must be somewhere nice, close by. I need to do a little bit of walking.'

Everyone was agreeable. The trio set out from the house and walked to the same restaurant where Hélène had gone with Philippe. The food was better than average although it was noisy.

'Feels just like being in New York.'

'One big city is the same as the next sometimes although each one has a unique perspective.'

'I really only know New York and Florida. I didn't travel much with my mother and of course Jacob and I don't eat out that often.'

'I did a lot of driving as you know. We didn't always get to eat at the same restaurants but our clients would choose some pretty fancy places.'

The conversation became one sided as Hélène pushed Carl to talk about some of his experiences. He was funny and full of stories about his travels before settling on a permanent job with the Wells family after their momentous trip out west.

'I have had a wonderful family all my life. I try not to push my daughters too much but something about that trip changed my life.'

'Mine too Carl!' Cathy reached out a hand to her protector.

Carl had taken a special interest in Cathy. Long before, the trip to Montreal, they had driven to the home of Patrick DelCassian. During that trip they reached an understanding. Carl became her confident, sharing many of her fears with a sympathetic ear. He singlehandedly organized the transportation and safety of the women who came to the shelter. Apart from her father-in-law, Carl was the closest person to an ideal father figure. Over dinner, watching him smile and engage Hélène with respect, just made him all the more endearing. Once again, during the dinner meal, Cathy was able to step outside herself and sense a tableau showing a loving family meal.

'These are not my dreams. They are the dreams of my mother.' In that split second, Cathy knew that she had made the right decision. She couldn't rewrite history but she could revision it. There was so much more to do. She would let each situation play out in real time and in her mind, then hold the memories for her own child.

Despite Cathy's long nap, missing a full nights sleep was taking a toll. The trio bundled up and returned to the bungalow. Everyone was ready to retire early. Carl said his goodnight and headed downstairs. In her room, Cathy put on her night clothes and sat at the small dressing table in the room. She knew that her mother once sat there exploring pretend faces in the mirror during her early years. Cathy unwound her hair and began brushing out the tangles. She saw her grandmother come to the door and invited her in.

Hélène took the hairbrush from her granddaughter's hand. She grabbed the long, slightly wavy hair in one hand and began to run the brush from scalp to ends in nice even strokes.

'You did this for my mother?'

'As often as she would allow.'

Cathy waited. She wanted to ask questions, not about her mother but about Howard. She wasn't sure how to approach the subject.

'Your taste in music has changed.'

'Expanded.'

'Do you love Howard?'

'Yes!'

Pretense was hard. Cathy's mission was not to embarrass her grandmother but to know that she was happy. The brush strokes continued to soothe. Hélène did not falter in the face of personal questions.

'Are you happy? Does he come to visit?'

'Yes, to both!'

'What do you love about him?'

'He comes to me in many guises…..'

'Disguises?'

'No my love. He sometimes comes to me as a weary traveler, eager to find respite from the many roads he has to travel in his job. He sometimes comes to me as a friend, looking for someone to share the many burdens he carries. He always comes to me as a man, with love and respect in his heart, making me feel like a woman. He always comes to me as a lover, singing songs, which touch me in ways I cannot explain. Whoever comes, he will always receive my comfort and love. We are not thinking beyond the moment.'

Cathy nodded. She knew words would be superfluous. She gave into the delightful feel of being mothered. Eyes, closed, she pictured Lena performing the same functions and could not. Instead, just like her other visions, she could see Hélène and Madeleine sitting together, the child on the floor, sitting between her mothers knees, receiving the same treatment.

'You must do this more often Mignonne. You have beautiful hair but it needs brushing. Too many loose strands of hair.'

'My ancestors!'

'Eh?'

'I was told that each hair on my head represents one of my many ancestors. I carry all of their DNA. I think those strands that fall are characters whose lives will have little impact on my future.'

'How is this possible?'

'Mémé, I don't know. I still have a lot to learn. I am starting here because my heart tells me to.'

Hélène could not answer. She too had a lot to learn. She felt compelled to continue the measured strokes saying nothing more. Cathy felt herself taking on the persona of her mother, getting a sense of the connection between mother and child. She also felt the pain and fear associated with the brutal assault on her mother's young body by a predatory stepfather.

'I wish she could have told me. Guy was a master at deceit. He manipulated her and destroyed her life. The only saving grace for my terrible guilt is you.' The words were spoken before Hélène knew they were out of her mouth.

She had said the words in French but as usual Cathy, in her altered state, could understand. The grooming hands were stilled. One was pulled over her shoulder so that Cathy could kiss away the hurt and rest the softness against her cheek. Hélène accepted the homily. She gave her granddaughter a small peck on the cheek, lay the brush on the frilly vanity and left the room. Cathy settled herself in bed. It didn't take long for her to enter that strange world of green and blue swirling colours. She knew answers to her unasked questions beckoned, pulling her back to Ireland!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

Cathy wakened from a sound sleep feeling refreshed. Anticipation for the adventure, which took her so far from home was only slightly lessened by the fact that not one minute of her dream yielded anything substantive. It was just a mass of colours swirling and swirling around. Cathy had been through this before. She understood that visioning took time. She needed to learn more patience. _'I get it'_ she muttered to herself, getting out of bed when hunger overtook her disappointment.

Mémé and Carl were already up sipping on some very fragrant coffee.

'None for you but I do have chicory. Is that alright?'

'I didn't know I shouldn't drink coffee. Maybe that's why this kid is always moving.'

Cathy was inclined to help herself to the food on the stove but her grandmother would have none of it. 'You sit. Let me do something for you.'

Cathy was always being waited on. Sue spoiled her. Jacob never let her lift a finger. Vincent refused to let her do more than observe or direct the setup below. Even Catherine rarely asked for her opinions any more.

'I am getting ex…..ceeeeedingly lazy.'

'If you think your life will be easy after the baby, you have no idea. Take all the rest you can now!'

'You can say that again!'

'I bow to the experts,' she laughed, tucking into the delicious pancakes, soaked in real maple syrup.

Hélène wanted to treat her granddaughter like a precious ornament. She was tempted to bestow every ounce of love and kindness within her heart but resisted the urge to do so. Hélène knew that such behaviour would not help their relationship. Cathy was too independent. Offering food was a delicious way to show love. Later they would go out for a long brisk walk.

For her, the joy of having appreciative people at the table was a balm to the indifference of her children. Carl, in particular, knew how to offer sincere compliments. In her head Hélène imagined Howard sitting opposite her, sharing the meal. It was a family scene, which would never be, but the imagined tableau lightened her heart prompting a similar response a few miles away in Albany.

She excused herself to take the call from the object of her thoughts marveling at the strange way in which people in love could intuit each other's feelings. In all her life Hélène had never shared that kind of relationship with anyone.

_'__I'm fine. Yes, she arrived safely. I don't need anything.' After a long pause, 'except you.'_ That was the extent of their conversation, short and sweet, with enough content to put a smile on her face. She returned to the breakfast table and nodded yes to the silent question in Cathy's eyes before resuming breakfast.

'I'd like to do a little walking tour today. Not too much, but enough for you to see where Papa and I met and where we used to study at university. I would also like to introduce you to our local Sage-femme organization. One of them will come in, if you go into labour. They are very discreet and there is no charge but just in case, I need a professional eye they should know you.'

Cathy went on to ask about the women who carried on the ancient tradition of midwifery or wise woman service as it was called in Quebec. She was intrigued by the plans for the day. It promised to offer a glimpse into the past and the present.

**…****..**

'You've been a stranger. Are your hands full with those two kids?'

'Well, that and Marian! Her bi-coastal relationship is hell on the business and my family. Is she going to marry your friend Patrick or not?' The anger in Terry's voice was uncharacteristic.

Catherine paused at the mention of Marian's name. She still had deep misgivings about some specific words, which would not leave her mind. To probe into their meaning might ultimately force her to betray Patrick. Delving into the past, of a woman he seemed to love, would put their long-standing relationship in jeopardy. Catherine had no idea why Marian had been chosen to oversee her long-term care at the mountain house in California. If the director of the agency was part of the organization that orchestrated Catherine's downfall, her continued relationship with Patrick was still a danger to him and her family.

Nothing outward had been done or said but a few words spoken casually between the two women matched similar words spoken by someone else known to be an enemy. Coincidence or not, Catherine was wary. She also noted that Terry picked up on a slight hesitation whenever the director's name was mentioned. It wouldn't be the first time they discussed Marian's behaviour or motives.

'I don't know Terry. Patrick hasn't said anything to me. My issue with her is quite different. If they love each other then let nature take its course. Anyway, what prompted the call?'

'I have a few days free. Philippe is planning on coming to New York. I think he wants to be around for Cathy's birth. He says we can travel together and he'll help me with the kids. Besides that, I miss you. Just want to catch up.'

'Terry, you never need to ask. Just come. You are always welcome. Cathy is not here right now but she'll be back in a few days.'

'Hmm, I wonder if Philippe is aware of that? I will check with him and let you know what day, ok?'

Catherine rang off, thinking about the call. Terry was smart and intuitive. Nothing passed her. She wondered why her rescuer should feel the need to make a visit. Was it truly just a catch-up visit or did Terry sense something. Having the architect of her rehabilitation come and spend time was always welcome. Catherine sighed and let go of her worry. At the end of the day, most lingering issues just seemed to fix themselves. Terry's patience and empathy with everyone enabled her to be a great natural healer as well as an exceptional mother and friend. Catherine could use a little of both.

She was also curious to see how the little girl from below was faring. Terry had not been able to resist adopting the troubled and abandoned infant, Bodun who had been born in the park cubbyhole to a severely drug addicted mother. The baby began to thrive once she received bottles of Terry's expressed breast milk. Jacob's healing touch completed her recovery. The weakened infant had a new name which escaped Catherine's mind, but if Bodun was healthy it would be one success story out of many orphans still hiding out below.. Instead of dwelling on Marian, or the problems she might present, Catherine immediately began to prepare for Terry's visit. There would be lots to talk about, including the new challenges of running the Governor's charity.

**…**

'I can't believe how young you and Papa look!'

Cathy stared at the photo mounted on the wall of the music department at McGill University. She had no idea that not long ago, her grandfather stood at that same spot reminiscing about his past. It marked the beginning of a reunion, which brought the scattered remnants of the family together.

Flanked on either side by her grandmother and Carl, she touched the glass as if longing to reach inside and capture the moment. Once again, the sense of reliving the past held her firmly. She pictured herself as a young Madeleine, flanked on either side by her parents, who were pointing out the many trophies, which they won as part of the musical ensemble during the 1960's. The names Hélène Halter and Philippe DeLané appeared over and over.

'It seems so long ago ma petite fille. We were indeed young and hopeful. So many wasted years and so much regret … all erased in this moment.'

'Really Mémé?'

'Mais oui. There were so many times when I wanted to bring my daughter here but Guy hated my academic success. He resented any mention of it. I don't know why I gave in.'

'Doesn't matter now Mémé. My mother knows. Thank you for bringing me here.'

The trio had spent the latter part of the morning strolling through the grounds of the university. Following various paths, which marked the passage of time for Hélène and Philippe. The whole process was healing and cathartic. Mindful of Cathy's state, they didn't dwell too long in any one place.

'What else are we doing today?' she asked as they returned to the van.

'We are going to see Les Sage-femmes. This is just a back-up my love. If I don't have a plan in place, Jacob will never forgive me and I will never forgive me. The ladies will just talk with you and answer any questions you have but they will not interfere in any way with your care in New York.

The trio made their way to the Community Health Center which housed the office of the Midwives. Hélène had booked an appointment for Cathy to consult with one of the women just in case. As it turned out, the small homey office felt exactly like the kind of place that Cathy could have envisioned as a safe place to give birth. The woman, Marie-Clare who had once been a student of Hélène was warm and welcoming. If she was appalled at Cathy's lack of formal care, she said nothing. Cathy was encouraged to ask any and all questions.

It was an enlightening experience. No amount of online data could replace knowledge about the art of birthing from the perspective of a midwife. Cathy enjoyed the hour spent. She was never made to feel neglectful. She asked Marie-Clare to listen to her baby's heart beat and do some routine exams. It was painless and non-threatening. The midwife pronounced mother and baby fit. She reiterated her support and sent Cathy and Hélène on their way.

**…****.**

'You are looking very pensive Mama.'

'And you, my son look very….sad. Is it Cathy? Is she alright?'

'She's fine. I just miss her.'

'I have some news that may cheer you up a little. Terry is coming to town.'

'That is good news. It's been awhile. What brings her to New York?'

'When I spoke with her earlier she said she was coming because Philippe wanted to see Cathy. He thought Terry might like to visit with me and asked her to join him. Philippe promised to help with the kids.'

'And now?'

'They will wait a couple of days then come as soon as Cathy is on her way home.'

Although Jacob was initially pleased, his brow furrowed in thought. Both Terry and Philippe were highly intuitive. He wondered if they anticipated something else. There was still three and a half weeks to go. He didn't raise that concern with his mother. Instead he went on to talk about something else.

'Maybe Terry can give me some pointers on how to deal with my assistant, Ziggy.'

'I thought the two of you worked well together.'

'We do, but he is getting more and more distracted by the Governor's niece and her family.'

'Is he falling in love?'

'He won't admit to it. I think Reiba's needs are so far out of his life experiences that he is overwhelmed. He's great with the kids but….loving their mother is another story. I was thinking maybe Terry could speak with her.'

'Why not him?'

'He has his own support system. She doesn't.'

'My lawyer, doctor, soon to be daddy, son, what next? Social services counselor?'

'Isn't that really all we are doing, just from different angles?'

'I have to think about that.' Catherine gave an uncharacteristic snort. 'It seems like forever since we just sat and talked Jacob. I have missed you. Perhaps we have been too busy to remember that everything we are starts here, at home.' Catherine reached out for Jacob's hand. It was warm and flowing with the energy of his youth.

'Tell me about Cathy. She's alright?'

'Yes, she's fine. Her experience is not exactly what she thought. Instead of hearing her mother's story, she is re-imagining it by living as her mother while she shares this time with Mémé.'

'I can't begin to understand that Jacob.' Catherine fell silent while her mind conjured up memories. 'Lena just seemed so lost when I met her. It was as if she had nothing left inside..' Catherine shook her head. 'She was a survivor though.'

'Then you and Lena are kindred spirits Mama! Your story is no less spectacular. I'm just saying…'

Catherine could not resist the charming smile of her child. All her negative feelings dissipated but before they could go on to talk more about Cathy. Jacob jumped up.

'I have some work to catch up on. Let me know when Terry and Philippe are going to arrive.

Jacob went to his apartment. First and foremost, he chatted online with Cathy listening to her description of the day's events. He was deeply grateful that Mémé kept her promise. Any other nagging thoughts were kept at bay. No matter what his mother said, the fact that Philippe would choose this time to visit instead of a time closer to the due date of the baby, left him puzzled.

He sat alone in his study reflecting on so many things. Over the summer he completed the requirements for his Doctor of Naturopathy. It wasn't hard. His insight into the human body and its ability to self-heal needed the direction of formal studies. He had a natural knack for finding and mixing herbs. He used that skill to help the community below. His ailing grandfather no longer had the capacity to treat and care for the sick. Once a week, after work he would go below specifically to help the sick. The most needy were the children whose lives begun under such dire circumstances. Into each therapy he put a little of his biological grandfather's ancient formula. Its healing properties were miraculous.

As Jacob contemplated the future he wondered for the umpteenth time if his path as a lawyer was right. No matter how much he decided on making a change, there was still something that kept him working at saving the soul of criminals. The healing of the physical felt like a gift to be nurtured but never exploited. Even as the thought came and went, he knew the current path was right. Besides he was sure that Kurt would never forgive him for leaving. They had an excellent relationship and Jacob still had a lot of growing to do.

Satisfied with his self-reflection he felt the sadness of being without Cathy wash over him. He turned his attention to Ziggy. It brought laughter, consternation and immediate balm to his uncharacteristic self-pity.

...

California

Philippe Jardinere sat pensively in his study. Unlike other times when the piano offered comfort for his troubled soul, he could find nothing to ease the worry which invaded his unconscious. His thoughts were all in Montreal where his granddaughter was spending impractical, but necessary time, resolving her past and present. If nothing else the stability of her grandmother's presence was reassuring. He felt rightly or wrongly that in any emergency she would be able to make practical decisions. For all his confidence he still could not settle

The phone at hand offered a life line. Terry's voice was reassuring but she knew little about babies.

'I have been on the receiving end of making one and on the birthing end of it but process escapes me. You know I am a rehab nurse. What are you worried about Philippe? After a pause in which no response, 'she's in good hands you know'.

'I know. We'll be there soon.'

'Are you still planning to stay until she gives birth?'

'Yes! She may not need me but I need to do this for her grandmother, mother... and for me'.

'I understand. Marian will be back shortly, probably in a couple of days. We can leave anytime after that. Catherine has no problem with me landing on her doorstep.'

'Do you think I am being a foolish old man?'

Terry heard the uncertainty of his voice but she refused to enable any self-pity. 'Yes, you are being a foolish old man but one with a heart full of compassion and concern for those you love'.

Terry's no nonsense humour help to quiet his concerns but they could not entirely satisfy the mysterious source of his stress. Long after he hung up, Philippe continued to stare into space. Eventually he found his way to the computer and typed 'having a baby' into the search engine. The options were mind-boggling but Philippe had the ability to clear his mind and give 100% to a project if it would advance his comprehension. 'This opportunity to be supportive and knowledgeable will not escape me a the third time!' he vowed.

He knew there was still a couple weeks to go and yet a sense of urgency would not leave. Before starting on his research project, Philippe found a song which he knew would enhance his learning. 'I may not be foolish but I am an old man and learning is hard'. He chuckled. Being proactive did what nothing else could do to lift his spirits.


End file.
